


I’m Half The Person You Need Me To Be

by pedrhoe_pascal



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Depression, F/M, Heavy Angst, Lost Love, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Post-Colombia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Sad, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27523366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedrhoe_pascal/pseuds/pedrhoe_pascal
Summary: Pregnant!Reader x FrankieAfter Colombia, Frankie was different. Bad different. Your relationship was on the brink of collapse and you were both left to drown in the wreckage. It’s now or never for you two.
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	I’m Half The Person You Need Me To Be

You knew Colombia was a bad idea. You told them that it was too good to be true and that they hadn’t considered any other possibilities. They were so blinded by the riches and the plan they hadn’t even considered the possibilities that things didn’t go as planned.

You wish you hadn’t been right, but you were. Tom had lost his life, most of the riches we lost and what was left was given to Tom’s family in hopes to help them financially. Santiago was somewhere. The moment he came back he left again and no one really knew where he was and he never told anyone. William donated all his time to public speaking, he wanted to warn people about the dangers and help them cope without actually confessing to what had happened. Ben was getting his ass kicked in the ring in attempts to distract himself.

Frankie stayed home as much as possible, working around the house and busying himself with mindless tasks. While you usually loved having him around, he wasn’t the Frankie you knew. He was angry and distant and you tried everything you could; talking to him, giving him space, seeking professional treatment and even asking Santiago for advice. Nothing worked, Frankie just lashed out and pushed you away. You were now 24 weeks pregnant and were scared for you and your unborn son’s future.

You were walking on eggshells and just kept to yourself and tried to stay on Frankie’s good side. You had just finished making dinner and setting the table. Frankie was working in the garage and you were mentally preparing yourself for another tense dinner with small talk. You make your way to the attached garage with your hand resting on your stomach.

“Dinner is ready, amor”

The term of endearment didn’t hold the same passion it once did. You continue to use it hopes it’ll bring your Frankie back to you. Try to remind him who you were and what he meant to you. Frankie sighs and continues to work.

“I’ll be in there in a minute.”

He says that every day, and every day it still hurts. It reminds you that the Frankie you know is still far away. You sit alone at the table. Everything in your once warm house feels cold and dark.

You dish yourself a plate and play with the food. Your appetite hasn’t been the greatest with the discomfort of pregnancy and the changes in your smell and taste. You know that the problems between you and Frankie aren’t helping either. The smell of food feels overwhelming and eating feels like a mountain of a chore. You manage a few small bites but mostly you toy with it and get lost in your thoughts. Frankie comes in, washes his hands and sits at the table without a word. You know that it’s up to you to begin and hold any kind of conversation.

“How was your day?”

“Fine. Yours?”

“It was okay. I had a therapy session and then wandered around a few places to look at some things for the nursery.”

Therapy was new for you, you started when you found out you were pregnant but, since issues with Frankie came up it’s been your saving grace. And for any other normal couple, this would be the time that Frankie asks if you’d found anything. But he doesn’t, and you no longer had the energy to continue. You continue playing with your food until Frankie finishes, he takes his plate to the kitchen and disappears somewhere in the house. You allow yourself to break down, letting the tears stream down your face and fall onto your plate quietly.

Realistically, you’ve known that you’d reached the end of your relationship with Frankie for a while. Now, having to face it and talk to him, it’s become too much. You love him and always will but you can’t continue like this, you refuse to. You’re pregnant, you won’t allow your son to be born into this mess and have him watch the crumbling relationship. Your son deserves to see only the happiest and purest forms of love and that’s something Frankie left in Colombia.

You quickly clean the mess from dinner in hopes to postpone the inevitable as long as possible. All the time in the world couldn’t prepare you for what was about to happen. You find Frankie in your shared bedroom getting ready for bed even though it’s only 7:00 pm. He throws back the covers and is about to climb in when you stop him from the doorway with the words; "We need to talk.”.

Frankie freezes and turns to look at you, “What about?”.

“Us.”

“Why?”

“You know why Frankie.”

He sighs and sits and the foot of the bed. You don’t move from the doorway but frustration covers your body and tears well up in your eyes.

“Do you seriously want to do this now?”

To that, you let a tear roll down your cheek. You’ve been trying since he got back from Colombia and he seems inconvenienced by your feelings.

“Yes, now! Because if not, when? When, Frankie? Because if it were up to you, I’m petty sure you’d ignore me for the rest of our natural lives. I’m pregnant with our son and I am nothing but a stranger in this house.”

“That’s not-…”

“It is true, Frankie. We both know it.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I know that it’s time for me to let go.”

“You don’t mean that.”, Frankie says in a soft tone while getting up and to hold your arms.

It’s maybe the second time he's touched you lovingly and been so gentle with you since his return. Weeks of cold-shouldered responses and avoidance made you feel like a shell of the woman you once were. You retreated into your shell like a turtle and now that you hear his concerned voice and feel his warm hands, you break. Tears fall continuously down your face and your chest constricts painfully while trying to suppress your cries and emotions. Frankie tries to pull you into a hug but it’s too late and all too much. You place your hand on his chest, keeping him at a safe distance while shaking your head in attempts to gather yourself.

“I love you Frankie, but-…”

“C’mon, this is just a bump in the road. You know me and-…”

“I used to know you. I don’t even know myself anymore and refuse to be this shell of a human when our son arrives.”

“It’s just… I get lost in the nothingness inside of me. This has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me. You’re the love of my life, the father of my son, my partner in crime and my favourite person the whole damn world. We were supposed to fight every battle together. And I tried Frankie, I tried. I wanted you to see a therapist and I wanted us to do therapy together and I wanted to be your rock and I wanted to fight the darkness that has consumed you, with you.”

At this point, the tears have run dry and the weeks of hopelessness and frustration create an angry exterior. For Frankie, this is the first wake up call. He begins to understand the damage that’s been done and how serious this all is. It breaks him to know that he broke the person he loved more than anything and the only one who wanted to help him. He wants to take everything back and face the issues with you from the day he got home, to fix what had become of him before letting it get to you. Worst of all, he remembers his son. The only reason Frankie even considered Colombia, was to ensure financial security for his son. Frankie forgot about the life he helped create, the one that he was living for in hopes to give his son everything. He let his darkness forget about those he loved and let it consume his world to be him and only him.

“I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I just-I can't help-…”

“I know. ...But I don't know what more I can do, Francisco. You won't let me help you--you say you want help, say you want me, but every time I try you just end up lashing out and push me further away. ...I love you. But this relationship isn't healthy for either of us and I--I'm not strong enough to support you and keep myself afloat too. You need someone better-…”

You used his first name, not a nickname or pet name, his first name. He hates hearing it fall from your lips in this situation because it means you’re serious. He hates hearing you say that you don’t think you’re good enough because you are, you are more than enough. Looking back, how couldn’t you feel that way? You tried to get him to do anything to help himself, you went out of your way and, allowed him to mistreat you in hopes he’d find his own way out after he turned down everything you suggested.

“I don't want someone better! I want you, I love you-…”

“If this carries on we'll drown one another. We'll end up destroying whatever's left that's good between us and hating one another in the long run. Letting go now is what's best.”

“Please don’t leave me. I’ll get help, I’ll be better. I promise.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you when you are. Until then, we take a break and cohabit for the sake of our son. Understand that I want nothing more than for my Frankie to come back to me.”

You cup his cheeks and wipe the falling tears with your thumbs.

“I love you, Francisco. But, right now, I’m half the person you need me to be. So, I’ll wait until mi amor returns.”

You kiss Frankie on the nose, savouring the moment. You leave him in your shared bedroom, taking the guest bedroom which is now yours indefinitely. You know that there is a long and hard road ahead of the both of you but, you hope that this gets Frankie to do what he needs to. Even if it doesn’t, at least you can say you tried you best. And even though it killed you to break away from him, you did what was best for you and your son.


End file.
